


Philosophy

by kate_the_reader



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M, Secret Saito Gift Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 11:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13075509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate_the_reader/pseuds/kate_the_reader
Summary: A question from Eames leads Arthur to do some thinking about himself.





	Philosophy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oceaxe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceaxe/gifts).



> For darling Oceaxe, who makes me think oftener than she might realise.  
> I was excited to get YOUR prompt for Secret Saito, and then nervous I might not be able to rise to your challenge. I hope I have. Thank you for being you!

“What’s your personal philosophy, darling?”

Eames is sitting in the passenger seat while Arthur drives. It’s late after a long day.

Arthur frowns at the road, and glances quickly at Eames. He’s sitting turned towards him, his shoulder against the car door.

“That’s quite a big question.”

“It is,” Eames agrees.

“Why now?”

“Why not now?”

Arthur can’t help the smile he feels tugging at his mouth. Eames is always surprising him like this.

“My personal philosophy? Always trust your tailor.”

“That’s a good one. It’s seen you right, certainly.” Eames laughs, and shifts in his seat so he can put a broad hand on Arthur’s thigh, his thumb rubbing over the weave of his trousers.

“What’s yours?”

“Always trust my intuition. It’s seen me right so far.”

“I trust it too,” says Arthur. “It was better than mine.”

Eames huffs a soft laugh as Arthur turns into their street and the conversation drops as they arrive home and get ready for bed.

Later, though, as he lies awake while Eames sleeps, he thinks he was unfair, to dodge his question so glibly, even though Eames took it good-naturedly enough. The problem is, he’s not sure he does have what he would call an over-arching philosophy. Eames is the thinker, he’s the practical one, that’s why they work together so well, why they fit together so well.

But as he drifts off, he resolves to try to give Eames a better answer.

*

While he’s out for a run in the morning, he turns it over and over in his mind.

“Prepare thoroughly,” he says as he comes in the door, wiping sweat out of his eyes.

The look Eames gives him as he glances up from the newspaper is a mix of bafflement and amusement. “Is that an instruction, darling? I’m all for sex anytime, but you remember we have that thing all the way on the other side of the city?”

“Eames!” Arthur bats at his hand as he crosses to the sink to get a glass of water. “My personal philosophy. Be prepared.”

“Oh.” Eames pantomimes an exaggerated look of disappointment. “You’re a Boy Scout. And here I thought you were going to ravish me on the breakfast table.”

“Hmmm, it _is_ a pity about the time. Still, you never know your luck, Mr Eames, so you’d better … be prepared.” He goes over to lean against Eames, who lifts the hem of his t-shirt and licks his way along the sweaty skin at the waistband of his shorts.

“Mmmm,” he murmurs. “Good philosophy.”

*

“It really is,” Eames says as they leave their meeting.

“What is?”

“A good philosophy. Being prepared. It’s seen us right.”

“But is it though? A philosophy? I’m no good at this.”

“At what?”

“Deep thoughts.”

“What nonsense,” says Eames as they step into the elevator. “I shouldn’t have teased you about it. I’m sorry.”

*

But when Arthur sits down that evening to watch baseball, a game Eames claims to find impenetrable, he says wickedly: “Just going to prepare thoroughly … I’ll let you know when I have,” and leaves the room. 

World Series be damned, Arthur follows Eames to the bedroom.

*

The trouble is, preparing, planning, looking ahead, is a good policy, but is it a _philosophy_?

Arthur ponders some more when he wakes earlier than Eames. It occurs to him how much thinking he does in times when he’s awake and Eames is a calm presence next to him, his steady breathing and reassuring bulk grounding him. He used to hate how difficult it is for him to fall asleep, how often he wakes early. Before Eames, he tried to exhaust himself into sleep — long runs after dark, difficult, slightly dull novels. And if he woke early, he would get up to start the day, putting in hours of work before anyone else even surfaced. Now he finds he can lie quietly in the dark, and often falls asleep quicker, or drops off again.

He wakes when Eames sets a cup of coffee down on his nightstand and gets back into bed with a mug of tea.

“You know, darling, I wasn’t intending to make you anxious, when I asked for your personal philosophy.”

“You didn’t. I’m glad your question made me think about it. It’s good to try and boil it down.” Arthur leans against Eames and watches the morning light get stronger. 

The year is winding down to its close and they have a lull. The job the meeting was about won’t start for weeks. Arthur is looking forward to the free time.

When he comes back from his run, there’s an envelope propped against a bottle of water on the kitchen table, addressed to him in Eames’ beautiful handwriting. Inside are two tickets to Mombasa, and a note.

> “Darling,
> 
> I know you prefer to be prepared, so here it is: pack for hot days and warm nights, I’m taking you to Lamu island. I’ve made all the arrangements, you don’t have to worry about a thing.
> 
> All my love, E”

Arthur is still standing there with the note in his hand when Eames arrives home from the gym. 

“Not too much of a surprise, I hope?” he says.

“Well … a good surprise. I don’t even know where that is.”

“Go and look in the study.”

“After we’ve showered.” 

Under the shower spray, he kisses Eames and says: “Thank you for my surprise.”

On his computer, Eames has called up a guide to Lamu and the website of the private villa he has booked. 

*

Arthur packs carefully: linen pants, cool shirts, bathing suits, and an envelope addressed to Eames.

When they finally arrive, after a long and tiring series of flights and a boat ride and a jeep drive down a sandy track, the villa is peace itself. Suspended swinging daybeds on the deep veranda offer a view of the beach, a sea breeze blows softly and the sun is just beginning to set.

As he unpacks, Arthur places the envelope on Eames’ pillow.

He steps out of the bathroom still towelling his hair. Eames is sitting on the bed with a sheet of paper in his hand. He looks up at Arthur. “Darling,” he says. Arthur steps over, dropping the towel. Eames pulls him closer, till he’s bracketed by his knees. 

What Arthur has written is this: 

> “My personal philosophy is ‘Be Ready’.
> 
> I thought it was ‘prepare thoroughly’. But that isn’t quite the same as being ready, is it? I hope always to be prepared for things I can prepare for, but I want to be ready for whatever happens, to be open to whatever that is — ready to try things, ready to do things with you that I might not on my own.
> 
> I haven’t always been ready, but I am now. I made you wait and wait, and you did. Thank you for that.
> 
> And thank you for always surprising me. I love that, really.
> 
> I’ll always be ready for anything, with you.
> 
> Forever, A”

Eames rests his forehead against Arthur, his hands on his hips, still holding the letter. Arthur pushes his hands into Eames’ hair. When Eames looks up, his eyes are shining with tears. Arthur brushes them from his cheeks. 

“Thank you,” says Eames, his voice rough. 

**Author's Note:**

> If it wasn't obvious, the prompt was "philosophy".


End file.
